


Sick of Losing Soulmates

by RiriPandaHeart



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Reality, Sick of Losing Soulmates, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 01:39:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10452105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiriPandaHeart/pseuds/RiriPandaHeart
Summary: Monologues from Dan's POV incorporating the lyrics of Dodie's Sick of Losing Soulmate. The challenge is to incorporate all the words and insert them into the story while hopefully still making it all cohesive. :)





	

“ ** _What a strange being you are_** ”, I whisper to the silent room as I watch your face contort itself into an animal impression that I’ve seen you do a countless number of times before. But its effect on me has apparently not diminished yet as proven by the unbidden half-smile that currently graces my lips.

 

I remember when I first saw you. It was generally a bad day, the highlights of which were a monumental argument with my girlfriend followed almost immediately after by a direct telling off from my boss. The very moment I reached home, I engaged in what would become my favorite activity: escaping to the internet; a magical place where reality took a backseat and stress relieving was a priority.

 

Having caught up with all of Smosh’s videos and desperate for more distraction, I unwittingly went to Youtube’s homepage, the steady hum of the dial-up connection was my only companion in this darkened room as I waited for the rarely opened webpage to load. And when it finally loaded, I was immediately distracted by an endless sea of blue on a pair of eyes staring out from a thumbnail right smack in the middle on the first row of videos. It was such a small still, but I felt like it dominated the entire screen, compelling me to not look at anything else. I might have stared for too long, mesmerized at the sight before me. I’ve never seen eyes that blue on anybody before.

 

Shaking my head to break me out of the spell I’ve been seemingly under, I then noticed to whom those beautiful eyes belonged to. “A boy”, I whispered unto the night, feeling an uncomfortable weight settling onto my stomach. I knew that I could get attracted to a boy; I have known that fact since I found myself distracted by blonde hair and an endless dimple on a classmate who happened to be a boy.  But this was something I’ve never said out loud, feeling that it would not really matter in the long run. It could just be a phase; it could just be an irregularity. I was still attracted to girls anyway, so there was no need to emphasize that nugget of truth when I could just so easily conform to what has always been expected of me: to like girls.

 

I clicked on the thumbnail, not even caring about the title at this point. I started wondering what your voice would sound like and if it would suit the eyes that so captivated me mere moments before. I paused the video, knowing that it would be better to wait until it has fully loaded than to immediately start watching and having to experience a frequently interrupted viewing punctuated with periods of agonizing wait for the next part to load.

 

As the bar started to move slowly, I then decided to text my girlfriend, trying to form together the words to an apology I feel like I didn’t really have to give. But that has always been our dynamic in our relationship:  I was always in the wrong, she was always in the right. And despite firmly believing in what I had told her about it being better to take a gap year to help me figure things out, I still apologized for not being able to get into the same university at the same time as her. Erin had dreams and a concrete plan laid out for her future. All I had were vague notions and uncertainties held and bundled together by everyone’s expectations of what a successful person ought to be.

 

The screen of my phone lit up seconds after I’ve sent the text, almost as though she had been waiting for me to finally text her.

 

“If you would have just applied like I told you to do, you need not have had to apologize. Why must you be so lazy Dan?” was all it said. I must admit I had the strong compulsion to throw my cellphone at the wall due to utmost frustration. She still did not understand why I did what I did. And I don’t think she ever will.

 

Letting out a frustrated sigh was all that I could do, as I gently set my phone facedown at my side, trying to avoid seeing the words  that were synonymous to ones I’ve been hearing all my life: lazy, unmotivated, self-sabatoging, a disappointment, a failure. I could almost hear the words spoken to me the way they usually were: the word itself, followed by an exasperated sigh then an eerie silence usually accompanied by prolonged staring by eyes that clearly showed disapproval and disappointment.

 

I visibly shake my head, trying desperately to avoid the half-formed thoughts currently trying to dominate my mind. The brightened screen of my laptop was like a homing device, beckoning my complete attention, which I gladly gave to it. A reprieve from my reality and my thoughts were always welcome.

 

The video had finished loading almost the very second I cast my eyes at my laptop again, as though the universe was finally trying to be on my side and giving me exactly what I needed when I needed it.

 

And there you were, now more than just a still, the realization of you being an actual human being dawning on my mind as I watched your mouth open and your body move. Your voice did suit your eyes; a low, husky voice with a northern drawl filling up my room  as I lose myself in your story, which admittedly could have happened to anyone anywhere else in the world. But it happened to you, and you tell it so wonderfully that I sit here captivated, unwilling to give my attention to anything else, until I find myself laughing along at and with you. Until I find myself forgetting everything that was weighing heavily on my mind earlier. And this bliss, this period of forgetfulness, where nothing exists but you and your stories, is something so pleasantly different that I find myself craving for more. I click the subscribe button, not knowing just how a simple act might change my life forever.

 

Each day I go back to you and watch you, allowing reality to seemingly blink out of existence, enabling myself to not care about anyone or anything but you for a few minutes. I realize it’s unhealthy, a coping mechanism bordering on addiction. But if it helps me have pleasant dreams instead of nightmares, could one really blame for indulging myself?

 

* * *

 

It’s become almost a daily habit, a dirty little secret of mine, to open up this metallic piece of crap that somehow allows me to be connected to the rest of the world, then open up one of your random videos, immediately pausing it on a still that shows your beautiful face, and start talking to you about anything and everything under the sun. As if you could hear me, as if you were here. It’s weird, crazy, bordering on maybe insanity, but is it so different from the ways I talk to myself already? A figure on the screen imagined in real life might be better than me just muttering to myself. At least it’s a pretend conversation, admittedly with only me answering my innermost thoughts. A one-way conversation imagined to be two-way. Maybe because I can’t have this kind of conversation with anyone else. Maybe because no one else listens. Everybody hears, but don’t listen. I pretend you do. And it helps. Oh **_God knows where I would be_ ** if I didn’t have this to help me unload everything that’s on my head and in my heart. A little ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark existence. It’s like **_you found me_** _,_ when I was **_sitting all alone in the dark._**

 

 * * *

 

The phone rings, not even a minute after I texted you. If I weren’t as distracted as I was right now, I’m sure I’d still be marveling at the fact that actual Amazingphil was a contact on my phone now. But then, you’re most than just Amazingphil, aren’t you? You’re more than just a pretty face and captivating blue eyes, your personality more complex and puzzling than you ever let on in your videos. You’re more than just a figure on my screen, more than just a diversion or a past time; because I now realize that you actually exist, because you’re actually a real person who knows that I exist too. A spontaneous tweet that was surprisingly noticed and answered, led to a few hundred more, resulting to a thousand private messages exchanged, and seemingly endless Skype calls that unknowingly cemented a friendship unlike any other I’ve ever had, and probably will ever have. And now you’re primarily Phil Lester to me, a fact reflected by my phone which is brazenly displaying your name as it continues to unrelentingly ring, a product of both my inaction and probably your stubbornness and insistence that I answer the phone.

 

“Phil”, I am able to choke out, when I finally mustered enough will to press that innocuous button that served to both end the shrill ringtone that has unceasingly rang for three minutes now while allowing you to finally hear what I thought would have been complete silence on my end.

 

“Dan”, a mixture of panic and relief displayed by that one syllable reaching me despite the literal miles that currently separate us. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

 

I let the minutes be consumed by an uneasy stillness as my mind wonders at the irony that months before you knew me, I engaged in pretend conservations with you as a means to sort out my rowdy feelings and thoughts; and yet now that I had actual you wanting to talk to me and help me, I feel the urge to close myself from you, completely afraid and insecure that whatever compelled you to acknowledge my existence will be erased by whatever piece of information you gather from the words I speak or the way I act. But this unlikely friendship would not have been built if I was able to do what I wished to do. Betrayed by my own impulses and your innate ability to get people to trust you, I’ve spilled almost all of my secrets to you. You know so much more about me than I ever intended for you to find out. And yet you haven’t ran away. And yet you’re still there, willing to listen, willing to know more.

 

So I tell you a story: of a job lost and confidence shattered, of family spats and well-intentioned but malicious words that have deeply embedded into my soul, of friends moving on with their lives while my life is seemingly at a standstill, of fears and hope for a future that is quite unclear, and of a love once gained and now lost over diverging dreams and unmet expectations.

 

“I’m just a **_dumb screenshot of youth_** aren’t I? The perfect example of how just how much a teenager can mess up his life.” I said to you, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone. I did not want you to see how negative I can be, you with your constant positivity should never be brought into the darkness when you’ve always been my light. But the darkness comes from within me and could never be completely obscured. It always rears its ugly head, especially in my moments of vulnerability, letting the world know of its existence, letting the world know just how shattered the rose-tinted glasses I was born with had become.

 

“Dan”, you say softly, your voice more serious than it has ever been before. “What you’re feeling is valid. I’ve been there. I am there. Growing up just means you hide it better”.

 

You then tell me story after story unknown to anyone else but you: tales of failures that have never seen the light of day, anecdotes of hardships brought about by your own insecurities or  unlucky circumstances or a  tragic combination of both, fueled by the innate harshness of life; anecdotes of unrequited loves and broken hearts characterized by me laughing as you mention the number with you sputtering indignantly after ; ending with a heart wrenching narrative of a friend gone too soon and words never said out loud but thought all the time. 

 

“How can you so positive then? How can you be so functional with all of that buried inside you? How come you’ve just never given up?” I question you, with a voice tinted with surprise and unadulterated awe at the contrast of how put together you seem outside, yet have all these history and feelings boiling just beneath the surface.

 

“There’s no one-off solution. I’ve shattered a lot of times. I’ve always just somehow found the resolve to pick up all the broken pieces and desperately held on to them while time healed all the cracks and pieced them all back together”, you say, your voice a tinge deeper than I’ve ever heard it before.

 

“Time’s like a superglue then”, I said, truly at a loss of what to say next, still mulling the words you just said to me. 

 

“Yeah. It kinda is”, you say, and then a comfortable silence ensues between us. I would have thought  that you hanged up on me if only I could not hear your quiet breathing at the other end of the line. It’s calming me down though, as I unconsciously time my breath to mimic yours.

 

The silence is broken when you hesitantly say: “You do know you can talk to me about your problems, don’t you Dan? You can call me anytime.”

 

I feel very touched and overwhelmed at the prospect that you will willingly listen to problems you probably have already encountered and survived before; problems which might seem petty to you now but are still like unconquerable mountains for me.  The more I talk to you, the more I’m left in awe of how just innately kind you are. It’s dangerous. You’re dangerous. Your blue eyes made you stand out from the crowd, but it’s an interesting personality like yours that made me stay, and it’s a kind heart that might make me fall hard for you, a prospect that seems bleak what with the numerous rejections I’ve faced these past few weeks.

 

So I try to act all cool and composed, going back behind the sarcastic persona I always put up whenever I feel vulnerable. I then quip at you: _“_ Are you quite sure about that offer Philip? I might call you every minute of every waking hour. You will never get any rest. _**Watch how this cold broken teen will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof**_ "

 

You laugh, and a warm feeling spreads through my stomach at the thought that I was the one that made you laugh.  I never really thought about it before but what passes as my comedic style has always been a coping mechanism against bullies, so it will look like their words did not affect me at all, or a way of getting attention when I felt like people were taking me for granted or I was blending in with the crowd too much. This has been the first time that I realized how making someone laugh could also make me feel good inside, like maybe my existence had a purpose.

 

You break my train of thought when you quip back at me: “Is that my superhero name? Superglued human of proof? Quite catchy. Might change my youtube name to that”, cheekiness reflected at every syllable you uttered.

 

“Is this the death of Amazingphil?”, I say with a  sardonic grin. “It suits you though. Just wear a cape with an SG emblazoned at the front.”

 

“Kinda like superman, except with SG, yeah?”, you say, laughter blurring your words together.

 

“Yeah you dork!”, I say, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips for what would probably be the first time this week.

 

“If I’m a dork, then you’re a spork”, you throw back at me, turning my smile into a full-on snorting fest that has me clutching my sides at your silliness.

 

“Great comeback Philip. That didn’t make any sense at all” I say once I calmed down, a full-on smile now gracing my face.

 

Before you can reply, I could hear a door banging at the end of your line followed by you muttering words I could not quite clearly make out. I patiently wait while you finish your conversation with someone that’s with you, feeling a sudden desire to be the one there talking to you face-to-face.  It’s irrational because you might not want to see me, but it’s the first time I realize that I do want to meet you and see your face not just as pixels on my screen but as warm flesh. But it’s too early in this friendship to even suggest such a thing, so maybe it’s a goal for some time in the future, when we have had more history together, when we know more about each other, when I know that my presence would be a welcome gift and not an inconvenience.

 

The noises at your side pick up as you grab your phone again and muttered in a low voice: “Got to go. Mom’s making us all eat dinner together. Are you okay now?”

 

“I am, I think”, I say, trying to infuse my voice with as much sincerity as I could, “Thank you so much Phil.”

 

“Any time Dan”, I almost didn’t hear you say before I heard the click that signaled the end of a phone call. I hastily put the phone away from my ear and put it in front of me to stare at your name while grinning stupidly. I feel happier than I’ve ever felt recently. You just have this effect on me that I can’t quite still grasp but I’m invariably grateful for; just a glimpse of your face when I watched your videos made me smile, a short conversation with you on any platform is enough to make me feel like the load the world has given me is a bit more bearable; just having any sort of interaction with you in general makes my day brighter.

 

My phone sounds off before I could even glance away from it, prompting me to unconsciously click that ominous “1 new message” that exemplifies exactly that. My smile widens as I see that it’s from you. You sent a simple emoticon, not even enough to fill up one line of text, but it conveys to me what your voice cannot, and it now makes me wish more than ever that you were here with me, doing precisely that with me. It might mean nothing to you, but it’s just exactly what I need right now. And I’m in awe that I haven’t been talking to you for long, but it seems like you just understand me in ways even I don’t understand myself. It was just a simple emoticon, but it makes my head swim and fills it with images of you and me in that very position. All because of a simple emoticon that goes like this: >(^^)<

 

I hastily text you back, replying the same thing, the smile still lingering on my face.  I then tuck my phone back into my pocket, knowing you won’t be able to reply for a while. But for now it’s enough. It’s enough because distance might separate us, and we’re just on the beginning of what could be a long and wonderful friendship, or a short brilliant one that might end up in flames. All I know is that, come what may, I’m glad that you’re now tangibly part of my life. And that you’re just a phone call away.  

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This basically started with me discovering and obsessing over Dodie's Sick of Losing Soulmates and thinking of how a fic could be based from it. However, when I was done with the first page, I got this insane idea to try to incorporate all the words into actual thoughts/conversation between the characters of the story. So that's basically the challenge in this fic. It's not yet done because I'm too busy with law school, but I wanted to put out what I've already written. Hope someone reads this. And hope whoever does doesn't seem to be that creeped out with Dan's stalkerish monologue. Comments are appreciated and loved. <3


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